My Brain: hey what if the League didn't die in Legacy
Me: ...dammit

Check this out if you want. You don't have to read Legacy or Far From Home to understand this, but it would definitely help. Please enjoy!

OoOoOo

The Watchtower was completely destroyed. The Metro Tower wasn't much better. They had lost nearly half of the League and those who were still alive were gravely and seriously injured. Some were only holding on by a thread.

But somehow, it could have been worse. A lot worse.

Diana stood by as the civilian workers attempted to get their injured members medical attention. She winced as she watched them wheel Batman away on a stretcher. Bruce, as per usual, had risked everything to save everyone else. She had just barely managed to pull her husband out of the brunt explosion before he was entirely obliterated.

J'onn wasn't sure when he would wake up.

Kal's injuries had been grievous as well, but once the kryptonite had been safely stored away the sun had begun to heal him. He staggered over to her, his face grim. "How many?" he asked somberly.

Diana inhaled through her nose. "Too many," she replied. As an Amazon, she was no stranger to war. Their lives were dangerous, there was always the chance they'd fight a battle they couldn't win. But this. This had been devastating even to her standards.

They had been expecting their new era of peace to last forever. How foolish they were.

"Mom!"

Diana flinched at the young voice that reached her ears. Turning sharply, she only barely caught the body flung to her in time. "Lilian," she said sternly, though she couldn't bring herself to let the girl go. Not after the fight she had been through. She could have lost everything just an hour ago. She should have scolded Lily for being there, but she was just happy to see her alive and well. "I thought I told you to stay put."

For once, her daughter didn't come back with a witty retort. "We saw the fight on the news," she whispered, arms wound tightly around her mother. Diana couldn't remember the last time her daughter had hugged her like this. "It was bad."

Diana sighed, burying her face in the girl's hair. "Yes," she agreed. "It was." She shared a look with Kal, who nodded and gave the two of them privacy. She cupped her daughter's face, knowing she had to tell the truth now before the girl found out on her own. "My Little Sun and Stars, I'm so sorry, but your father-"

Lily sniffed. "I saw," she interrupted. "The explosion. If he was okay, he'd be here with you right now. Daddy wouldn't get medical help before you."

Her heart throbbed. "He's in intensive care," she revealed. "J'onn is tending to him now." Lily nodded wordlessly, hiding her face in the bodice of Diana's armor. "Where are your friends?"

Lily finally pulled back, wiping at her face. "What I should be," she admitted, her features hardening under her mask. "M'gann's helping Uncle J'onn with the injured and B's with Uncle Wally working on supply distribution."

Diana nodded, filing this information away. "What of Rex and Henry?"

"Rexie went to find his parents," Lily told her softly. Fortunately, John and Shayera hadn't had it as bad as some others. Shayera's wings had been damaged and she'd seen John take a few nasty hits. But overall they were fine. "I don't know where Kent is; he flew off before we got here." She crossed her arms over her chest. "Probably throwing a tantrum."

Diana frowned; the animosity between her child and Kal's wounded her every day. She never found out why the two of them despised one another so, but she knew she couldn't make Lily be friends with anyone she didn't want to. "Everyone deals their own way, my Little Sun and Stars," she chided gently. "You may not like it, but Henry must process the way he sees fit."

Lily clearly didn't like that, but nodded begrudgingly. "Is there anything you need my help with?" she asked.

The Amazon cupped the teenager's cheek with her hand. "Help me clear some of this rubble," she directed. "Make sure there aren't civilians trapped underneath."

Her daughter cast a worried look towards her pulsing leg. "You're hurt," she observed. "Mama, I can handle it by myself. You should rest."

Diana kissed the top of her head. "I'm alright, sweetheart," she assured her. "It's healing. Right now, the people are our priority."

Lily hesitated, then sighed. "Okay," she agreed. She flew away to do as her mother said without arguing. 'Huh,' thought Diana. 'That's a first.'

Not that Lily was a particularly misbehaved child, but she was a teenager. No teenager did everything their parents told them to do. In fact, Lily had begun to fight against her more and more these days. Diana never took it to heart- she recalled squabbles with her own mother- but it had made her worry.

She couldn't help but think there was a particular reason for her daughter's behavior.

Diana shook her head of these thoughts. Definitely not the time; she had a job to do.

OoOoOo

Wally observed carefully as he watched his son zip around the city.

The kid hadn't said a word to him, barely even looked at him. Admittedly, Barry wasn't a big talker for a speedster, but was it too much to expect a 'Hi' at the very least? "Kid," he called after a while. His son was at his side in an instant, his mouth set in a grim line. "Okay, bud, time to talk. What's going on with you?"

Barry wouldn't look at him. "Nothing," he murmured.

"Bull," stated Wally, feeling put out. Barry never usually had a problem talking to him. Had he done something wrong? His stomach clenched at the possibility that his kid was upset with him. "Kiddo-"

"We have work to do," Barry interjected, aiming to rush away again.

But Wally put a hand on his shoulder before he could run. "Pretty sure the work's done, Kid," he pointed out, gesturing to the supply pile. Or lack thereof; Barry had finished about thirty seconds ago.

Barry nudged his hand away. "Then I'll get more-"

"Bartholemew Iris," said Wally firmly. Ugh, he hated using that tone; it reminded him too much of Bruce. Unfortunately, it was necessary sometimes. "Sit down. We can wait for more."

The strawberry blond saw there was no way he was getting out of this and sighed, perching himself on the bench next to them. "Happy?" he huffed.

"Very." Wally sat down next to him, nudging his son in the arm. "Come on, kid, talk to me."

Barry buried his hands in his windswept hair. "Dad," he said, looking at him with an annoyed expression. "You almost died."

Wally blinked at him. "Uh, kind of comes with the territory, bud," he stated slowly. Had the kid hit his head or something? "I've 'almost died' at least five times in the last three weeks-"

But Barry shook his head. "Not like that," he stressed. "I saw you, on the news." His dark eyes narrowed accusingly. "You were being reckless. You took too many hits."

Wally tried to think back. Had he? The fight had been so brutal, Barry hadn't been completely aware of what he had done during most of it. All he had been focused on was defeating their enemy and keeping stray civilians safe. "Kid-"

"You're all I have!" Barry snapped suddenly. Wally flinched; his son hardly ever raised his voice. The kid stubbornly wiped at his face in an attempt to hide his tears. He tucked his knees under his chin. "I-If you died, I... I would have been alone."

Wally bit his lip, a sense of guilt stirring in his chest. He hadn't even thought about that. Sometimes, they- him and the Founders and the other parents in the League- spent so much time trying to keep the world safe for their children, that they sometimes forgot that their kids needed more than that. They needed assurance and security.

Today was proof of that. With so many of their allies and friends lost, he knew that the rest of them needed to be more present than ever. He had to hold onto what he had; this awful day had shown him it could all be ripped away in an instant.

And not even he would be fast enough to stop it.

Wally squeezed his shoulder. "I'm not going anywhere," he said firmly.

Barry peaked up at him through his red bangs. "Promise?" he asked softly. Vulnerability oozed from his voice and Wally's heart stuttered in his chest.

He took his son's hand. "Promise."

OoOoOo

The thing about war was that it never went away.

John knew this, which was part of the reason he had agreed to become a Green Lantern in the first place. He could hide away wherever he wanted, make a quiet little life for himself. But the harsh truth was that war was more than the blood and carnage. It was something inside you that you could never escape. He knew that; Shayera knew it too. The best thing for soldiers like them to do was continue to fight the good fight in any way they could.

Still, he would be lying if he said he had expected it to get to this point.

Some of his worst battles in the Marines hadn't come close to the destruction in the scene before him. They'd lost a lot of good people; comrades and friends alike.

Rex sat next to his mother, trying to patch up her wing which had been badly burned. His son had never been the talkative type and John didn't expect him to start now. "Rex, I told you, I'm fine," Shayera insisted. "I'm old, not incapable."

Rex briefly glanced up at her before going back to what he was doing. Shayera glared and despite the grim situation, John chuckled. "You okay, sport?" he asked.

Rex shrugged. "As much as I can be," he answered, shaking his head. "I should be asking you guys that."

Shayera shot him a worried glance. "We're fine, bud," she assured him. "Just a few bumps." She flexed her injured wings for good measure. "And singes."

"Could have gone worse," John agreed with a nod, thinking about the fallen members who wouldn't be going home to their families. He was incredibly lucky to even be having this conversation with his wife and son.

Rex grimaced. "Could have gone better," he countered. "What happened?"

John and Shayera shared a look. "CADMUS," said the redhead. "We think. J'onn said that the technology was similar, but we don't have evidence. And with Batman out of commission..."

"We're at a standstill," finished John solemnly. Everyone else would be focused on rebuilding, recovering, and mourning. They would be watched very closely, if they even managed to escape government scrutiny. Bruce was the only one capable of slipping away from the public eye undetected.

John winced, his mind drifting to his injured friend. Bruce was in critical condition; even if he did survive, there was no guarantee that Batman would return. He wasn't sure which his friend would have preferred; death or life without Batman.

Rex seemed troubled. "Then what?" he pressed. "We just wait around? What about the Watchtower? The Metro Tower? What are we-"

Shayera flicked his ear. "That's for the adults to worry about," she said firmly. Rex had a weird habit of taking on responsibilities that weren't his, a habit they had been trying to break for a good number of years now. "We'll manage; we're not useless without Batman, you know."

Rex stared at her blankly.

John chuckled, then covered it with a cough when her green eyes narrowed at him. "Work on crowd control," he directed. "Take your mind off this for now."

His son looked like that was the last thing he wanted to do, but nodded. "Okay," he relented compliantly. John watched him fly off towards the people who were scattered throughout the city.

Shayera huffed. "If that isn't your son I don't know what is," she stated crossing her arms as she squinted after his retreating form. John couldn't help but agree.

OoOoOo

This was going to be tough.

Bruce's condition was bad. Not the worst he had ever dealt with, but it was going to be a hard road. But J'onn knew he had to do everything in his power to keep his friend alive. Too many people counted on Batman, too many people loved and cared for Bruce. And he wasn't sure Diana and Lily would be able to handle his death.

He couldn't watch a family fall apart, not again.

A gentle hand drifted to his shoulder. 'Uncle J'onn, let me,' urged M'gann gently through telepathy. They only ever spoke aloud in front of the others, but on M'arzz speaking telepathically had been the most normal way to communicate. Her green eyes shone with compassion and resilience. 'I can sense your turmoil.'

Usually, J'onn would refuse. The Founders went under his care and only his. He didn't trust anyone with the lives of his friends. Their lives were the ones he refused to gamble, no matter the circumstances.

But his niece wasn't wrong; even now, his hands trembled. He was in no state to give the care Bruce needed. And M'gann wasn't just another civilian worker. Since arriving on Earth, she'd had a natural affinity for the medical field. He might even say that she was better than he was.

He remembered the moment that they found M'gann. She had been roaming the now desolate M'arzz; lost and confused. The deaths of her family had done irreparable emotional damage, her psychic defenses blocking out everything. It was only after months that they were able to uncover that she was his biological niece; one of the daughters of his late sister J'ann.

To find out that there was not only another living martian but his very own niece had nearly caused J'onn to openly weep. And he grew prouder of her every day. M'gann had proved to be exceptionally gifted, both psychically and otherwise.

Coming to a decision, J'onn stepped back. 'Alright,' he acceded. 'But I will stay for assistance.'

M'gann nodded. 'Okay,' she agreed. And without another word, spoken or otherwise, they began to work.

OoOoOo

Clark felt like he had lost everything in a day.

Of course, that wasn't really true. He still had his closest friends; he still had his wife and son. Most of the Justice League had come out of the fight with their lives. In all honesty, things could have been so much worse. They had actually been lucky; if it wasn't for Bruce and Diana they might have not come out alive at all.

But Clark didn't feel very lucky. Not when half the League had died during the fight; not when his best friend was in critical condition and his city was in ruins. This wasn't a victory, this was a hollow, heavy feeling settled in his chest.

He had failed. He had failed his fallen friends and his city.

Clark had picked up Diana and Lily's conversation; it didn't surprise him that Henry had flown off to be on his own. It was something his son had been doing for years, too angry with the world to properly face it.

Truly, Clark had never understood the root of Henry's anger, only that most of the time it was directed at him.

He had always tried to be a good father. He tried to spend time with Henry and offer support when he could. But he was always met with rejection. Lois assured him it was just a phase, that not every teenager had the privilege of being raised by Martha Kent, but this had been ongoing for the last six years.

Though, looking through the debris, it wasn't like Clark could blame Henry. He couldn't even protect his city, why would his son ever rely on him?

However, it didn't seem like Henry had gotten far. A figure was perched on the top of the Daily Planet- somehow miraculously intact- standing still. Upon further inspection, Henry had his arms crossed and was watching everything from above.

Carefully, Clark hovered up to him. "You know-" Violet eyes cut him off with a glare.

"Don't, Dad," warned Henry, scowling. "I'm not in the mood for one of your Superman speeches. There's nothing you can possibly say to make this better."

Clark raised an eyebrow. "I was just gonna say there are better places to sit," he stated with a shrug. "The view isn't all that great up here right now."

Henry scoffed, rolling his eyes. "I was getting ready to help," he explained. His gaze returned to the streets below. "Everything looks like it's getting handled, though."

He nodded in agreement. Most of the citizens had been evacuated and things were going smoothly for Diana and the others. They weren't needed.

He wasn't needed.

The reality of that thought hit Clark harder than he would have liked. He was getting on in age. He may not have been aging as rapidly as Bruce, but he wasn't immortal. His hair was graying and there were crow's feet by his eyes.

Maybe that was why he hadn't been the hero Metropolis needed today. Maybe that was why he had been forced to watch so many friends die in front of his eyes. He was getting weaker.

And for Clark, who had been strong his entire life, that scared him. It really did.

Henry looked at him for a long time. Then, he rolled his eyes. "The self-pity is really annoying, Pa." Before Clark could retaliate, his son stood and launched himself off the roof. He watched as the teenager flew away from Metropolis, getting further from his reach.

Just like always.

OoOoOo

Alternate title: The Kids Aren't Okay

This is just an idea I'm playing around with, a life where the Founders (and others) live. What does that mean for the kiddos? Well, a lot, but not in the same way as Legacy. I'll be straight with you guys, I probably won't update this too often, but I'm in a rut with Far From Home, so I thought I'd just try to get back into the characters another way. Hopefully that'll get me rolling.

Now, if you're wondering no I don't know who Barry's mother would be. Use your imaginations. What was the League fighting? A weapon of mass destruction of course. I'm leaving that ambiguous because 1) I'm lazy and 2) I don't think anything I'd come up with would be satisfying. What happened differently in this timeline? Well, that'll be revealed.

Anyway I hope you liked it and please review!